Women With Handcuffs
by Ambrosia Rush
Summary: "Sam, you know the rule. They got their own handcuffs, I'm out." -Keepin' It Real. Callen doesn't date women in law enforcement, this is why.


G Callen had a rule about dating women with their own handcuffs. Police officers, Special Agents, Secret Service, if they had their own handcuffs, Callen was out. As with all rules, there had to be a reason to make it into a rule. That one situation that you never wanted repeated. Gibbs taught him all kinds of rules, and most of them made sense. Always carry a knife, good rule. But sometimes something terrible has to happen for you to actually make a rule. As with never dating someone has their own handcuffs.

Callen figured after the entire Tracy incident, Sam would assume the rule came from there. Tracy had screwed him over pretty bad- even took the dog. He loved that dog. Still, that wasn't where the rule had come from. That incident would fall under the 'never date a co-worker,' after all, having a partner completely betray you and take you bitterly for everything in a divorce that was just as fake as the marriage seemed like just cause to follow that rule a little more closely.

No, Callen's rule came from when he was first starting out as and agent with the CIA. He had been in charge of the case, and was working with an LAPD rookie; Mya Bray. She was quirky, loud and had one hell of a laugh. Flaxen hair, lively green eyes and stood at the same height as he did. He had to admit, she looked damn good in her uniform too. Foolishly, he also knew she looked damn good out of it.

They'd worked the case hard, she'd used every bit of her snitch money, and he'd squeezed every contact he had. It was frustrating to find despite all their efforts, they weren't making much progress. They'd ended up at his pay-by-the-week apartment with Thai take-out. They'd talked over the case, voiced their opinions, and theories that they couldn't prove. Frustration mounting with every word. And then she'd kissed him. He'd held her away at arms length. "Don't make a big deal out of it," Mya had said to him. She was beautiful, and they'd been the only real human contact the other had while they'd been working together, everyone else was some drug dealer or gang banger and in their minds simply didn't count.

So he'd let her go, and they'd clung to the distraction of the other. One night a blur of heat and pleasure.

They'd gone back to working the case as if nothing had transpired. Frustration mounting as another week went by and little progress to show for it.

Another night of skin on skin, gasps of breath and red lines down his back.

The silent agreement between them served them both well. Even after they'd finally, _finally_ closed the case. He'd show up at her little apartment with a smile on his face and take-out if it was early enough. She'd show up at his with nothing but her black trench coat and a pair of sexy red heels. It wasn't a relationship, neither wanted one, but there was mutually beneficial sex and sometimes they'd talk for hours afterwards, help each other through the rough patches, and it was as close to a 'significant other' they'd have during that time.

She had energy, she had a smile to light up a room and a bawdy laugh. They never stayed the night. He'd sneak out of her apartment while she slept, and she'd sneak out of his when she thought he was asleep. Neither were ready to become something _more_.

So that morning, when he woke and she was still there he figured she must have clocked right out after the deed because she was completely naked sleeping on her stomach. She opened her eye when he moved. "Shit," she had muttered. "Sorry."

He knew that she was apologising for still being there, for potentially upsetting their delicate balance, but he really didn't mind. "It's fine," he had said with a shrug.

She got a little smirk upon her face as she moved quickly to pin him to the bed. "I could make it up to you."

"Oh yeah? How so?" Callen had asked with the same lewd grin.

She rotated her hips that were over his. "I'm sure I can think of something." She reached over the bed and through her purse, which he knew from experience she had condoms inside. That wasn't what she pulled out though and in a flash she had him cuffed to the rungs on the headboard. "I'll get coffee." She jumped off him with a laugh.

"Really?" Callen said sitting up slightly the handcuffs still on. Despite the fact he'd thought her mind had been on the same track as his, he had to laugh.

"Yeah, they make fantastic coffee a few shops over," she said with a smile. "I'll grab us each one."

"And I needed to be handcuffed for that?" Callen asked shaking his head.

She buttoned up his shirt over her body and then kissed him hard on the lips. "Wanted to make sure you'd still be here when I return."

"This is my apartment!" He cried indignantly.

She laughed loudly. "You're such a control freak!" she rolled her eyes. "Ease up, I'll be back in a few!" She pulled on a pair of tiny shorts and grabbed her wallet from her bag. "Don't go anywhere while I'm gone."

He pulled on the cuffs. "Like I have a choice." He could hear her laughing as he door shut. There was a very real part of him that really hated the fact that he was cuffed to something, stuck in this vulnerable position. He had reached for his pants and grabbed the bobby pin from the back of them and got to work on the cuffs. _Maybe I'll put them back on when I hear her come in_, he thought, _just to keep her bemused_ because he loved her smile.

There were three loud bangs and it took only a split second to realize they were gunshots. Free of the cuffs he pulled on his pants and grabbed a t-shirt from his closet. Pulled his gun from the side drawer along with his badge before he raced from the his apartment, down the three flights of stairs and out of the building.

A crowd was forming around and he caught sight of her. Mya was sprawled at an awkward angle on the sidewalk, thick blood spilling out of her body, he could see a shot to her chest, and one to the right side of her skull. There were people crying, multiple people on the phone calling 911.

He fought the urge to go to her, he couldn't. _He didn't exist_. He'd tucked his head down and had to walk away as the LAPD came to the call of a fallen one of their own.

Really, the rule had nothing to do with handcuffs. It had to do with becoming emotionally attached to those who had enemies. The image of her lifeless body and still open eyes fresh in his mind, he had tears welling in his own and he knew he'd become attached to her, she meant something to him, and now she was gone and all he knew was that he never wanted to deal with something like this again.


End file.
